In the arms of an Angel
by DreamOfStars
Summary: After a time travelling spell goes wrong, Prue wakes up in 1830, Paris where she is found by Jean Valjean... Prue/Valjean.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, no idea how or why I started this. Perhaps because I rewatched the first three seasons of Charmed and I am obsessed with Les Miserables. So somehow a story was born.  
I hope it makes sense...**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing more than my ideas... Neither Charmed nor Les Miz was one of my ideas.**

Chapter 1.

The streets of Paris were as busy as ever. Neither the rich, nor the poor took notice of the raven haired woman lying on the ground. Those who noticed her assumed that she was drunk or a prostitute. Or a drunk prostitute.

No one could be blamed for not caring. There were enough people lying on the streets daily. One more did not matter.

Jean Valjean patrolled the street every night, looking for people to lift out of their circumstances – searching for souls to save.

His heart skipped a beat upon noticing the still figure on the ground. He knelt next to her, frowning as he took in her unusual attire. She had to be a prostitute. No self respecting lady of France would show the amount of skin she did.

He sighed as he lifted her up in his arms. She had to have fainted due to hunger. He would have guessed that a client had gotten a little too rough with her, but the clear lack of bruises negated that theory. He could take her back home, give her a job in the factory.

He was sure that the other ladies would be glad to teach her what they knew.

Something he had thought to be dead stirred within him when she moved against his chest with a soft groan.

She was beautiful.

Her apparent vulnerability tugged at his heart. For some reason unbeknownst to him, he felt the urge to protect her. He was not sure against what. The law, perhaps.

"All will be well, Madamoiselle. As soon as we get you to a safe place."

Her soft sigh was troubled. Something seemed to be plaguing him. Her lips moved slightly, yet he could not make out words.

Luckily, his carriage was not far off. He lifted her into the carriage, careful not to wake her.

He laid her head down on his lap, stroking over her hair gently.

He found her to be more petite than most woman he had seen – especially when he compared her to the usual Ladies of the Night.

Bile rose in his throat as he considered the amount of damage the rough sailors of Paris could do to a body as frail as hers. No woman deserved that.

Prue Halliwell groaned as she felt the world rocking around her. Her eyelids fluttered and she frowned when she looked up into the kind eyes of a stranger.

"Who…"

Her mouth was dry and her voice came out hoarse and cracking. She coughed lightly and a pair of hands supported her in her attempt to sit up straight.

"Who are you?"

Valjean hesitated. For some reason, he had the urge to tell her the truth. He decided against it, however. He had an alias for a reason, he did not know anything about this woman. What would happen to his factory, the town he had become mayor of, if she turned him in?

"Monsier Madeleine, Madamoiselle. Who are you?"  
Prue was unsure of where she was – of when she was. She frowned slightly.

"I am Prue… Prudence. Prudence Halliwell."

Valjean smiled softly at her. She did not look – or sound – like someone from around here.

"You're not from here, are you, Mademoiselle Halliwell?"

Prue could not help but smile at the unfamiliar way her surname sounded on his tongue.

"I…"

The realization hit her and tears shot into her eyes.

"I don't know where here is…"

Piper. Phoebe. She had no idea where her sisters were, whether they were still alive.

The last thing she remembered was casting a spell to go back in time, in order to prevent Shax from causing their exposure!

Valjean saw the tears and pity pulled at his heart.

"You're in Montreuil-sur-Mer, mademoiselle. I found you unconscious on the street."

"Was… was I alone?"

He nodded and she leaned forward, her entire body trembling with fear. Valjean rested his hand on her back gently.

"Madamoiselle…?"

His voice was hesitant. He had so many questions, but no way of asking them without offending her or invading her privacy.

Prue on the other hand, sat with her own dilemma. She had no idea what the date – even the era – was. Judging by the man's attire and a quick glance around, it seemed to be around the 1800's.

Prue's eyes met those of her rescuer.

"Thank you… for not leaving me in the street. I appreciate it."

Valjean smiled slightly.

"I could not leave you, Madamoiselle."

Prue impulsively folded her hand over his.

"I still… I can't thank you enough."

Valjean coughed slightly, his hand twitching under hers.

"I… I will wait to see whether you are well. Perhaps we could find you a job at my factory."

Prue nodded distractedly. She did not even know how long she was here for… If Piper and Phoebe were still in their own time, they'd figure out a way to bring her back soon.

Valjean read the distraction expression on her face as insecurity and he smiles.

"Do not dwell on it. I will make sure that you are well enough to work first, you seem to be traumatised. Then I am positive that the Ladies of my factory will help you as much as they can."

Prue smiled lightly.

"Thank you."

Valjean nodded and tightened his hand around hers.  
"You're welcome, Madamoiselle."

Prue enjoyed a tour of the abandoned Beads Factory before following Valjean to his loft above the factory.

He led her to the room, looking at the bed uncomfortably.

"Of course… you will use the bed. I will make other arrangements."

Prue frowned, protesting at once.

The last thing she wanted to do, was make this modest man uncomfortable. However, she would not allow him to sleep on the floor – as was clearly his plan, judging by the fact that he took dusty blankets from a shelf.

"Monsieur Madeleine… I can not possibly let you sleep on the floor. Let me, I…"

Valjean shook his head quickly.

"There is no need, mademoiselle. I am perfectly comfortable here."

He smiled to himself as he arranged the blankets in front of the bed. It was not as though he had never slept in worse places!

"Well… thank you."

"You are very welcome. You need to stop thanking me, so much, mademoiselle."

She laughed at the teasing tone in his voice. Upon first glance, it seemed as though he could be nothing other than serious.

Valjean himself was surprised at his tone. He had never been one for teasing and laughter, not when he was a child and even less when he was released from prison.

He frowned pensively and Prue took a step toward him.

"Are… is… is something wrong?"

He looked up, impulsively reaching to sweep a strand of hair from her face.

"No. It is nothing, Madamoiselle. I was merely thinking."

"You know… you can call me Prue. Please."

"Prue… Well, in that case… call me Jean."

Her smile lit up her face.

Prue's heart fluttered when he smiled back at her.

She knew that there was a very big chance that she would be back in her own time, in the manor in San Francisco with her sisters.  
Of course she was unbelievably excited and anxious about getting home. She was just extremely thankful for this man who was willing to immediately help a stranger – give her lodging and a job. She doubted that there were still men like that left in the time she lived in now.

Though his face showed lines of a troubled past, he was still attractive. After studying him for a long time, Prue figured that it was his eyes.

They were gentle.

Something in his eyes made her feel incredibly safe.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reading and reviews! Sorry about the first chapter mistakenly having "Chapter 2" in the middle. I decided to start Chapter 2 a little further off and forgot to fix it in the document.**

**Here is the REAL chapter 2 though...**

**DISCLAIMER: Not mine.**

Chapter 2:

Prue soon found out that her new boss was wrong when he assumed that the ladies working for him would help her. Instead, nasty rumours started following her – rumours concerning her boss. Even though in her time, these types of rumours would not do harm, Prue knew that in the 19th century it could cause big trouble. Not only for her, but for the man who took pity on her too.

"You shouldn't listen to the rumours. No one would believe anything bad about Monsieur Madeleine."

Prue looked up when the soft voice spoke next to her and smiled at Fantine. Both deemed outsiders by the rest of the women, they two had quickly become good friends.

She sighed deeply.

"I know. I am just afraid that he will hear it and think that I was the one who started it."

Fantine smiled sourly.

"Oh, believe me… these women would never allow that to reach the ears of Monsieur Madeleine. Not even through the foreman."

Prue smiled, glancing up at the apartment where Monsieur Madeleine lived.

"I hope not. He was so good to me."

Fantine tried to hide a small smile.

"So… is there any truth in it?"

"What do you mean?"

The taller woman shrugged.

"Did he really find you on the street and brought you back to his home?"

"That part is true."

Prue smiled gently. She was extremely grateful for his kindness and would be so forever more.

"He was such a gentleman. He slept in the foyer while I had to sleep in his room."

"You like him, don't you?"

Prue nodded slowly.

"Of course. He saved my life."

"That's not what I meant."

Blood rushed to Prue's cheeks.

"I don't think it would be wise to be interested in him. He's practically perfect, but… I'll have to go home soon. Besides, he's the mayor and owner of the factory. He'd never look at me twice!"

Fantine laughed and lowered her voice to prevent the other women from hearing.

"Then you have not seen the way he looks at you, have you?"

Prue blushed again, her heart jumping."

"No… It can't be, I… it must be your imagination. Besides they…"

She looked up and gestured to the other women. Her heart nearly stopped when a large pile of beads fell to the floor, breaking into a million pieces.

Anguished screams filled the room and Prue let her hands fall to her sides limply.

It was not possible!

She had tried channelling her magic, tried calling it to her. She had even tried calling Leo before realising that he possibly wasn't a whitelighter yet. He was probably not even born yet.

If she was meant to return to her time, why would her powers come to her in this time?

It was chaos in the factory, that was evident the second Jean Valjean descended the stairs to see what the screaming was about. He sighed deeply upon noticing the broken beads on the floor.

"What happened here, ladies?"

It was Fantine who answered, glancing at Prue first.

"We… we have no idea, Monsieur. No one touched it. It just fell over."

Jean nodded slowly. Perhaps there was a weak spot on the stand.

"See to it that it is cleaned up as soon as possible, please. I will let Monsieur Le'Grant know that his beads will not be ready on time. I am sure he will understand."

His eyes fell on Prue where she stood, her body trembling slightly.

"Madamoiselle Halliwell… Could I see you in my office, please?"

Fantine smiled as she noticed the softness in his eyes when they fell on Prue. Perhaps neither of them noticed it, but it was obvious that there was some attraction between the two.

She realised that Monsieur Madeleine was a troubled man shortly after meeting him. She had no idea what it was that haunted him, but she truly hoped that it would not stand in the way of possible happiness.

Prue had truly blossomed ever since she started working for him. She was still very thin and looked almost elfish next to the other women, but her eyes started sparkling and he saw a radiant smile on her face often.

It was hard to keep his eyes off her and he had noticed that most men who passed her had that problem.

Jean shook his head quickly, shocked at his thoughts.

How could he think about a woman as though he had the right to be interested in them? He was an escaped convict and he knew that there were still people looking for him.

His identity put everyone in his life in danger. That was why he preferred being alone.

He could never let anyone in.

Prue shifted uncomfortably as she watched him. Monsieur Madeleine was staring off in the distance. It seemed as though he had forgotten about her being with him.

"Monsieur Madeleine?"

"Call me Jean."

The words were out before he even realized what he was saying. What was more shocking was the fact that there was not a single part of him that wanted to take them back.

"Call me Jean, Mademoiselle Halliwell."

Prue's heart skipped a beat. She had lived with Monsieur Madeleine for a month before he had given her a job and found her an apartment to live in. Another month – perhaps even more – had passed and in a sense, Prue felt as though she had become friends with him. Yet, before now, she had never deemed it appropriate to use his first name.

In the two months she has been here, Prue had found herself thinking less and less about going home. Some nagging suspicion told her that he was the reason for it. Monsieur Madeleine. The man with the gentle eyes and soothing voice.

Jean.

"Jean… I…. Well, only if you call me Prue."

Jean took a step forward and lifted her hand up to his lips.

"It would be a privilege… Prue."

Chills ran down her spine as his lips touched her hand. Just for now, she allowed the worrying thoughts of her magic returning and her life in San Francisco, rest in the back of her head.

Why couldn't she have met this man in her own time? He was perfect - not only did he have nearly every quality she had looked for in a man, but she could feel a strange connection between them. She knew exactly how picky she was. Her sisters never hesitated to point that out. She had a feeling that no one else would ever match up to him. Reality tugged at her heart.

As perfect as he may be, the situation was far from it. She could not possibly know how, but soon the connection between them would be broken and he would be nothing more than a memory.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey all... Here's the next chapter... ;)**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing.**

**DISLCAIMER: Not mine**

Chapter 3

As he stood watching her, Jean could not imagine how strong his presence in Prue's mind was. Without either of them realizing, his thoughts almost echoed Prue's. She was perfect. He had noticed her beauty the first time he saw her, but there was more. She was courageous, strong and free spirited. If only his own spirit had not been killed by years in prison, he might have been worthy of her.

She was still standing close to him. Too close for his comfort, yet he could not find it in him to step away from her. Not when every nerve in his body ached for her closeness.

It was madness. They had known each other for a mere two months, it was improper, it was…

Insane.

The years in jail must have removed all traces of sanity he ever had.

Jean Valjean knew he had turned into a good man. His past was filled with mistakes and misdemeanours.

His life had changed significantly, however. He helped people, saved them from the streets and gave them a chance at a life.

Yet, that did not mean that he could expose a woman to the lie his life had become.

Conflicting thoughts attacked each other viciously in his mind.

How was it possible that his heart could yearn for another human being with such intensity?

Prue's green eyes echoed the same doubts when he looked down. Her eyes, though filled with uncertainty, were mesmerizing.

His hand moved out of its own accord, reaching down to touch her cheek.

One simple touch.

That was all it took for them to lose control. Jean pulled her toward him, his lips crashing against hers desperately.

Prue moved her body closer to his and ran her hands up his chest where she grabbed onto his shirt.

His kiss was unlike any she has ever had before.

It was frantic and passionate, but at the same time it held an innocence and inexperience that could not be forged.

Jean groaned at the feel of her body against his, pulling her even closer. It felt as though he needed her to breathe, as though his life would end if he let go of her. He was forced to do this however, when he heard the voice of his foreman at the door – followed by the distinctive voice of none other than Inspector Javert. Jean froze and his breath started rushing at the realization that Javert was in his factory, right outside his door.

One wrong word, one small action that held the possibility of memories stirring in the inspector's mind could mean the end for him.

His eyes found Prue automatically.

She was desperately trying to flatten her hair, running her trembling fingers through it. He was hesitant to describe his feelings toward her. He did know, however, that she had become a part of his life – in whatever way. One wrong word or action could have dire consequences for her too.

The urge he had to protect her the first time he picked her up into his arms, had not vanished. If any thing, it had amplified significantly. He pulled her towards him, meeting her lips once more – this time in a gentle, softer kiss.

"Prue… take the stairs up, go to my room and wait there until I come and get you."

"I don't…"

He cupped her face in his hands and stared into her eyes intently.

"Listen to me. Go to my room and hide there. Trust me."

His anxious look at the door convinced her and she nodded quickly before heading up the stairs. One last look at him let fear to take up residence in her stomach. Something was wrong, that much was obvious.

What it was, however, was an open question.

**A/N: I hope you do not think that the kiss happened too soon. Trust me, this does not mean that the future is holding sunshine and roses for the pair. I just figured that Valjean - no matter how scared, scarred or guarded - is still a man.**


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